


Human Hospitality

by cassieoh_draws (cassieoh), Sodium_Azide



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Art, Aziraphale & Anathema Device Friendship, Crowley's Bad Driving (Good Omens), Domestic, Fluff, Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), Jasmine Cottage (Good Omens), Lower Tadfield (Good Omens), M/M, Newton is Adaptable, Post-Canon, Short & Sweet, Social Anxiety, hospitality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:40:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28940859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassieoh/pseuds/cassieoh_draws, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sodium_Azide/pseuds/Sodium_Azide
Summary: If you give an angel wine, sometimes they will tell you things you might not expect about how Heaven understands hospitality and human nature.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 111





	Human Hospitality

_“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”  
-Hebrews 13:2, The Bible, English Standard Version_

* * *

Crowley’s dire muttering ebbed in and out of audibility as the demon stalked around the flowerbeds of Jasmine Cottage threateningly. Anathema had offered to serve tea outside, or to remove the protective horseshoe over the door, but the demon had given a half-hearted hiss and sloped off towards the roses with malicious intent.

The little street fair in central Tadfield that they were meant to attend wasn’t to start for another hour. Crowley’s average driving speed was more on par with low-flying aircraft, making the estimated travel times on their maps somewhat useless. 

Anathema poured their second cup of tea in excruciatingly correct fashion as Aziraphale crinkled at her approvingly. “Oh well done, dear girl. You have clearly been practicing.”

She briskly set down the pot and dithered with the tableware, making it abundantly clear that the pleased flush on her cheeks was not to be commented on by anyone. Newt, amiable as ever, helpfully passed her the sugar after Aziraphale waved it away.

The angel beamed at Newt as well. “Young man, you remind me of some of my favorite platoon members. Always ready for the unexpected, with a good sensible head on your shoulders.” Newt adjusted his glasses in pleased embarrassment and nudged the plate of biscuits toward their guest. “Thank you, Mr. Angel sir.” Aziraphale fussed at him but did take a bit of shortbread. “Aziraphale is more than sufficient.” The angel took a bite and glowed a little. “Thank you to you both for your hospitality. Bless you.”

Anathema blinked at the small flare of angelic radiance, and at the line of potted herbs on the kitchen windowsill that had abruptly flourished in response. “I’m fairly certain that humans are heavily encouraged to show hospitality to angels. Pretty sure it’s in the literal gospel, but besides that, we’re always pleased to see you. And Crowley of course.” she added.

Newt nodded in agreement, then gave a little atavistic shiver at the primordial demonic hissing from the Serpent of Eden outside. He shook it off and shrugged. “You’re both pretty easy to entertain.” He sipped his tea and continued. “Last time he was yelling at our lawn being a disappointment so much that the whole patch grew a half-dozen centimeters. So now I wait to mow the grass until later in the week, and make sure we have something wilting in a pot.” 

Anathema gazed at her partner with soft eyes. Oblivious, the ex-witchfinder leaned back to look for Crowley out the window. Apparently satisfied that the demon was thoroughly occupied and he was being a good host to his guests, he turned back towards Aziraphale with a self-conscious smile. 

Newt set his cup down and reached for a biscuit of his own when Anathema pushed the plate pointedly closer to him. “You told us you were coming, so just in case, I popped over to the shops for nibbles and to get whatever they had half-dead in the bargain bin at the garden centre.” he confided.

Art by [Cassieoh](https://cassieoh.carrd.co/)

Aziraphale giggled and hid his face behind his hands. His dear serpent would be mortified.

Newt munched amiably. “I was just telling ‘nathema, when she showed me the bit in the Bible about hosting angels, that we should probably be able to provide something for your husband too, to make it fair. I was thinking about starting a lemon tree outside. They don’t really grow well outdoors in England, but I reckon if Crowley visits often, we’ll have enough for a lemonade stand.” He smiled at Anathema with the peculiar affectionate glow that seemed to be endemic to all new couples, in Aziraphale’s experience.

Anathema faced determinedly towards Aziraphale, not blushing through what must have been superhuman effort. “Is there anything special about angelic hospitality, in actuality? I guess you would be the one to ask.”

Aziraphale smiled down into his tea. “Why did you have a plastic tablecloth, dear girl?”

Anathema blinked at the non sequitur. “Ah, the table came with the cottage, but it was all scratched up, so I just-oh my God.”

Aziraphale giggled while Anathema fluttered her hands over the smooth, flawlessly beautiful wood of the bare table. She rushed over to her corkboard, still crammed with notes and pictures from her research into the Apocalypse, and started scribbling in a notebook furiously. Newt slid a fingertip around the edge of his plate. The serviceable tableware was now limned with gold. “Are they still dishwater-safe?” he asked curiously. “Is any of this holy? I can ask the church down the road for tips on how they take care of their altercloths, if that would help.” 

The angel beamed visibly. “No special care needed, dear boy. This usually renders them near-indestructible, actually.” Anathema squeaked in academic joy from her board. Newt picked up a golden spoon thoughtfully, shrugged and set it back on his napkin. “Thanks. I hate hand-washing stuff.” He paused. “Um. We do like having you as a guest, Mr. Angel Aziraphale sir. You don’t have to do this, I promise.” Aziraphale softened and reached out to pat the back of his hand gently. “You are most welcome, but I assure you I felt no obligation.”

* * *

“Less than a thousand years after I began serving on Earth,” The angel began. “There began to be difficulties in how Heaven related to the humans in our care.” Anathema had her recorder going, nearly frothing over with curiosity. Newt sipped his tea. “I was not the only angel on Earth, although I was the only one permanently assigned. The others, when they were sent to test the faith of a particular human, had been constantly returning to Heaven announcing failure, but when that same human’s soul often arrived in Heaven, sometimes as a direct consequence of the angel smiting those they found unworthy, those souls were seen as just as lovely and pure as might have been expected, from someone chosen to be visited by an angel.” 

Aziraphale folded his hands quietly. “As the angel with the most experience with humans, one of my superiors asked me to explain what the trouble might be. I was recalled to heaven and questioned for several years, as my first answer was deemed too simple, but I eventually requested the courtesy of demonstrating the validity of my answer. It is probable that this would have been refused, but there was apparently an inquiry from the Lord about why I was not on Earth, where She had placed me-” Anathema choked and started writing again, as Aziraphale twinkled. “So I, along with several supervisors, descended to Earth to visit a human family. I asked three things of my watchers: that I be permitted to act as I saw fit without interference, that they Look and See everything that this family possessed, and to allow me to explain my actions in full afterward, regardless of whether or not this family was deemed worthy of being blessed. These requests were granted.”

Newt assessed the atmosphere of the room, and as most socially-anxious people have done since the advent of fermentation, immediately decided that early afternoon was a perfect time for alcohol. Aziraphale had trailed off, eyes distant, but shook himself back to the present at the sound of the popping wine cork. Newt poured professionally smoothly, the sweet Moscato he had chosen gurgling cheerfully into glasses. He smiled bashfully at Anathema’s vaguely impressed expression. “I was a pretty good waiter, as long as there wasn’t an electronic till. It paid the bills, in between trying to get into computer engineering.” That broke the tension, and Newt sat back down, looked thrilled at a job well done. 

Aziraphale toasted them both, took a sip, and continued. “In any case, it was a lovely family. Pleasant couple with three children. The eldest girl was a wild young thing, selected to later help bring the faith to a royal family later, if I recall. Small farm, a few livestock. Nothing that you might consider admirable now, perhaps, but it was a good life. But there were no extra fripperies. No fabric that wasn’t woven themselves, no leather they had not tanned, and shared beds at night.” 

“I came as a lost traveller to their home and asked, in the name of the Lord, for a bit of water before I went on. The family took me into their home. The mother washed my feet while the youngest boy ran to milk the goat so that I might have something good to drink. They insisted I stay overnight, and there were only the spoons they had carved themselves, so the husband and wife shared at the evening meal, so that I might have my own. I blessed them with my whole heart, that the children might grow healthy and their lands and animals be fruitful, and left in the morning.” 

“Afterwards, I explained to my siblings and superiors in Heaven how this was how love was shown. There were no mother-of-pearl gates on Earth, and no floors of gold and alabaster that sang when walked upon. There was honor and kindness in giving what you had, even if all you could share was a portion of your own blanket on a cold night. There was love in quietly selecting the prettier of two pieces of bread to give your spouse. There was sanctity in looking upon a stranger and showing them kindness with what you had. It was not an insult to offer an angel a bowl of broth, no matter how small a thing it might seem to one of us, accustomed as we were to the grandeur of Heaven.” 

Aziraphale sighed. “I suspect that some of the nuance was lost, because this was accepted somewhat skeptically, and a memorandum tablet distributed that if a human showed hospitality, however badly, they were therefore automatically blessed by Heaven. I was permitted to return to Earth.”

Aziraphale gestured, perhaps more expansively due to the wine. The painting on the wall was of higher quality than before, the brushstrokes finer. The chairs they sat on had lovely inlaid details and carvings. Anathema’s eyes were entirely round behind her glasses. Aziraphale accepted a refill from Newt, eyes crinkling when they shared a conspiratorial look and split the rest of the bottle. “So I assure you both. This is not from a misplaced form of obligation, it’s more of a, consequence, perhaps, of welcoming me here, being what I am.” 

Anathema’s phone buzzed. “Oh. Crowley wants to know if we’re ready to go.”

The other two clinked their glasses and downed the rest of their wine before standing. Aziraphale was crisp as ever, although Newt looked a tad rumpled. “My, time does fly-let’s all ride in the Bentley, shall we? Perhaps young Newton shouldn’t be driving.” Newt grimaced in anticipation of criticism, but was reassuringly patted on each arm by his partner and his guest respectively. Anathema turned off her recorder but clutched her notebook close, clearly lining up further questions in long rows, but stopped with an almost hysterical giggle as she pushed back her chair. “So the powers of Heaven put enamel snakes on the backs of my kitchen chairs?”

Aziraphale adjusted his bowtie. “Oh no dear. That part was entirely me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Cassieoh is quietly the best ever, and if you want to see more of their art, go have fun and feast your eyes [here!](https://cassieoh.carrd.co/)


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